Under the Cover of Night
by CatnipSoup
Summary: Stranded on an alien planet, our duo needs shelter. Unfortunately, a local festival has caused all but one hotel to be filled, and this hotel has but one room...a single bedded room. Full summary inside ! Rating subject to change ! Pre-slash Spirk
1. Feel Your Heat

**_"Under the Cover of Night"_**

**Rating: **T (M, possibly, but _much _later on.)

**Couple(s):** Pre-slash Kirk/Spock

**Disclaimer: **

I owneth not _Star Trek_. There, happy? **Language and slash. ftw.**

**Summary:**

Stranded on an alien planet, our heroes need a place to stay.

Unfortunately, due to a local festival, the only Hotel with vacancy has just one _single bedded_ room, and Spock, for some entirely illogical reason, is determined to not end up on the floor like last time.

(ie "City on the Edge of Forever")

_____________

_Hear the drums beating as your heart. _

_Let the scent run through your soul, and encase you._

_Darling, let your eyes flutter shut, see with your flesh, _

_and just_**_ feel your heat_**_._

________________

**_Chapter 1: 'Feel Your Heat'_**

**_Puff_.**

It ended in a puff. Not a bang, not a crash...but a simple _puff_.  
_How fitting,_ Spock muses. _that just last week we escape a man-eating worm, _With little more than the clothes on their backs. _and yet we'd die in this forest, due to a faulty communicator battery_.  
"Well," Jim starts, turning his now smoking communicator in his hands. "you didn't happen to bring yours, did you?" His smile is nervous. Probably because his First Officer had already alerted him to the fact that some random crewman had busted it shortly before they got separated from their group. "Any chance we might be able to find them, Spock?"  
A single blink is all the time it takes for him to formulate his response. "Well, Captain, seeing as the planet we are currently on is inhabited by 4.8 billion people, the chance of us locating our party is 4.8 billion to three."  
"Those are better odds than usual." His captain answers cheerfully. "Besides, the walk will be good for us. Which way is the city, Mr. Spock~?" he grins as he speaks, and it's all Spock can do to not smile as he answers, barely glancing at his tricorder. "According to my calculations, 43.2 miles, East."

The trip through the forest was...uneventful, unless one counts the mutated squirrels that dwell in the trees, and at last they arrive.

Spock quirks an arched brow.  
Kirk smiles. "Huh...Would you look at that, there seems to be some holiday today, Mr. Spock...do you know anything about it?"  
The half-Vulcan folds his arms. "As our information on this planet was lacking, I have done ample research on their customs and traditions. There is no celebration to be held today, Captain."  
And yet...there it was, the capital of the planet Sdetqeyr, her borders adorned with the rich colors of Earth's Autumn. Streamers with words that neither can read, music played by native instruments...  
_Fascinating_.  
"Spock, though I don't doubt your capabilities, they are celebrating something." And for once, it's okay to be 'Captain-State-the-Obvious'. "Come on, then..." Kirk commands, well, commands in a way that sounds very much like a request. And soon enough they're inside the throng.

The music is louder here, _much_ louder, the main streets are flooded with performers, fire-breathers and jugglers, men on stilts in bright costumes tossing red and gold confetti to create a rain of paper.  
"Beautiful." The young man beside them states and Kirk turns to the speaker. "You know how to speak English?" the man before him looks like a human, seemingly puzzled. "of course, I'm a tourist."

"I can't believe we missed it." Jim states from across the small restaurant table. The 'we' is a kind thought, yet unnecessary. Spock steadies his jaw, his tone self-deprecating "You missed nothing, Captain. It was my responsibility to gather the information we needed, and I--"  
"Nonsense," Kirk cuts in "Your _responsibility _was simply to accompany me and gather samples, you did _extra_ research on the assigned planet. It was Starfleet's mistake that landed us here, on the _wrong planet_, not yours."  
The boy from before, Carlos, looks between them. "uhm..so...your boss-whatever gave you the coordinates for a different planet than the one they assigned you? Ya know, that's why my parents left Earth, they gotta get their shit together." Shaking his head of dusty-blonde hair, the boy continues to eat the weird dish of crawling crustaceans, called _myoqae_.  
Spock casts a disapproving look at the youth before bringing his gaze back to his Commanding Officer "Why did we bring this boy here with us?"  
Carlos scowls "Hey! I'm not a boy! I'm 22 thank you very much, Mr. Elf!"  
The Vulcans eyes narrow just a bit. "Excuse m--"  
Kirk is quick to step in, this is no time to cause a scene. "Now, Mr. Spock, this b--young man speaks both English and this planets native tongue. He also knows where we _actually_ are and he's treating us to lunch."  
Carlos smiles at this, blue eyes twinkling. "Yup. So, I take it that y'allz want the skinny?" Only when Kirk nods, is Spock sure that the boy is speaking English.  
"_Alright_," He starts, leaning back in his chair. "_This_ planet is called _Segkek_. West of Sdetqeyr, by like, 2 light-years dude." He pops a squirming creature into his mouth, waiting for more questions, and Spock feels his stomach jolt.  
Kirk chimes in, relaxing now that they know _where_ they are. "What's the festival about?" The question is not directed to Carlos, but to Spock.  
And as _much_ as Spock would have loved to answer, he had never gotten around to reading about Segkek "I am afraid I....have very little knowledge of this planet's festivities."  
_It is not a lie._ He assures himself. And it wasn't He_ did_ know somethings about this culture... Even if it was just from what he'd seen today.  
"Tch. It's the _Kyurkurk_ or _hours of fire_. I know, not too creative, but hey...the performers are pretty awesome. The really cool stuff starts at sunset, though"  
"I was under the impression that the Kyurkurk was the Scetyul festival of the moon." Spock comments in an off-handed fashion, and Kirk can't help but grin.  
"That's the _KkrKure_, genius. Sheesh, what kind of Vulcan are you? Aren't you guys supposed to be, like, freakin' computers?" Spock flinches, but only Jim notices. He's the only one who ever catches those fleeting moments of emotion. "No, they're not _computers_, Carlos." His tone is defensive. "Computers are not as loyal." And as Kirk smiles, Spock forgets that they're even lost. But not for long.  
The boys face is smug, but the look is gone as fast as it came....mostly because the boy is as well. "Yeah, whatever, anyways, I'm sorry your stuck and shit. The hotels are filling up _mad_ fast, though. So you might wanna get a jump on it. Oh! they take international currency, due to tourism and crap, so you guys should be fine~! Anyways, _screptek nok en mak_! That's 'live well', I think~!" And without another word, the boy was gone.  
"Well, that was....interesting, wouldn't you say so?" And with that grin of his, who _couldn't_ nod in agreement?  
"Quite."

Carlos' words were very true, each and every hotel they made a stop at was full to capacity.  
_And some beyond it_. the Vulcan thought with disdain. "Captain, perhaps we should wait in the forest? It seems more probable that--"

"That our comrades would wander through a forest without food or shelter, as opposed to going into a town to get help?" His tone is light, almost comical. But it wasn't as if their going to get help would be of much assistance, since the nearest _starbase_ was currently orbiting another planet.

A sigh escapes his Commander, as they stop on a quiet street, dusk approaching soon and them without a place to stay. "I wonder if the parade has arrived here yet...."  
"Perhaps they have yet to pass through, why?" Spock inquires.  
"Just wondering...."  
His second-in-command comes to stand close beside him, though this isn't odd for them, and they leave one another to their thoughts.

They hear it first, _the drumming_, and only after a few more moments do they see the dancers, seeming unworldly in their garb. Gowns of red and scarves of sheer-yellow, their erratic, yet somehow smooth, movements causing the colors to blend fiercely in the hot orange light of the setting sun.  
_If I were still a child, I'd believe they were aflame_.  
A thick, earthy, scent suddenly wafts from somewhere, engulfing his senses, the drums beating loudly...steadily....thumping.  
A dancer catches his gaze, her face stark white except for blood red lips and the shimmering gold that frames her jet-black eyes. His reflection lies there, but not only his...no...his Captain' as well, standing close beside him..._so_..._very close_.  
Jim. The voice in his head sounds guttural, animalistic. The thumping gets louder, or perhaps it's his heart...He grows suddenly more-aware of the man next to him. His warmth, his breath, his scent....  
The Vulcans eyes flutter shut...

_...that scent_..  
His fists clench, breath quickening, the suns rays blaring on his neck.

___Oh.._.  
Trembling. Somewhere, someone calls his name...

**_Spock...._**

The drums rhythm quickens...as does his pulse...breath hitching.

**_Spock..._**

His face is flushing, he can feel it, something pools just below his navel...

**_Spock._**

Lips part, a sharp intake of breath....

"Spock!!"  
His eyes snap open, the spell is broken.  
The dancers and their band round a corner, the sound of the drums softening, he can breathe.  
He calms himself so quickly, any full-blooded Vulcan would feel ashamed.  
"Yes, Captain?" He says strongly as he turns to where he had last seen him.  
He's much further now, he sees, standing on a doorstep. "They've got a room!" He calls happily "Hurry up~!"  
Spock blinks twice, he must have thought he didn't hear him.  
Not one to take an opportunity for granted, he walks quickly toward Kirk.

"My apologies, I did not hear you." His voice is strained, but Kirk either doesn't notice, or doesn't think much of it.  
With nothing more to say, they walk inside.

* * *

A/N: So, yeah, quite a few made up words there....lol.

Don't worry, I come with my own dictionary.

(All things are made-up by me)

**Sdetqeyr** |_seh det kur_|

noun

A planet in the _Sunflower Galaxy_

**myoqae** |_me-o kay_|

noun

A small, shrimp-like, crustacean native to _Segkek_

**Segkek** |_seh geck_|

noun

An Earth-like planet whose humanoid inhabitants change the color and pattern of their skin at will.

**Kyurkurk** |_kai-ur kyoo-erk_|

noun

The festival celebrated on _Segkek_ to worship flames.

**Scetyul** |_sed yal_|

noun

An icey moon dwelled upon by small, bear-like, beings.

**KkrKure **|_k-ker koo reh_|

noun

The _Scetyul_ festival of the moon.

**Screptek nok en mak **|_scoo-rept noke ehn makh_|

phrase

A _Segkek _phrase meaning "Don't fear life"


	2. Must I Lie With You?

_**"Under the Cover of Night"**_

**Rating: **T (M, possibly, but later on.)

**Couple(s):** Pre-slash Kirk/Spock

**Disclaimer: **

I owneth not _Star Trek_. There, happy?

Language and slash. ftw.

**Before Story Notes:**

I would like to thank the following users for setting this story to their alerts^^ :

maiky1992

Flying on a Broken Wing

LadyVulcan471

DeltaCandy

And a special thanks to Maiky for writing a review~! you can all give her a cookie, 'cause she's the one who made me put this out so quickly.

* * *

_Are you waiting for the answer to our ever-silent question,_

_or are my loving eyes are simply playing against me?_

_Is it time for me to tell the truth,_

_or __**must I lie with you**__?_

_

* * *

_

_Chapter 2: __**'Must I Lie with You?'**_

_Quiet. _His first thought on the building.  
It's quaint, he supposes, but compared to the _blindingly _vivid colors of outside, the chocolate colored walls and maroon flooring make for a much more pleasing site.  
In his opinion.

Kirk is at the main desk, made of marble, trying to explain their situation to a bright yellow-colored woman. "_We_ are _stranded_, and need a _place_ to _sleep._" He gestures calmly, for what seems to be the fifth time.  
"Sgrickta met kyal. Stuklaet muit puot." Is her eloquent response, _Just as it was the last time, and the time before that_, and as she makes no move to retrieve any room keys, Kirk grows aggravated, but as Spock approaches his side, he calms from whatever small amount of annoyance he was about to display.  
The girl looks between them, her once red eyes become black...glassy.  
Spock's eyebrow quirks at the odd change. _Fascinating._  
The Vulcan realizes he might be of assistance, "Their language is close to Sdetqeyr's. I believe I would be able to discern some wor--" But suddenly, the girl grins, turning her head to shout.  
"Meshal!" The name doesn't match their dialect, and soon a tall, tan, man approaches them. His hair long and fair in contrast with his skin, with beautiful almond eyes to adorn his strong, beautiful, face.  
_Human?_  
"You're a tourist?" The man inquires to Kirk, a heavy accent on his lips that Spock cannot place. And the First Officer is troubled by the tone the man is using toward his captain....  
"Kind of....You see, he and I-" But the words are cut from his lips as the man before them finally notices Spock. "He is with you...?" The tone sounds...almost...  
_Accusatory._ The same as before.  
Glad to finally be getting somewhere, Kirk continues with all his Captain-air. "Yes, he is. He and I are a bit stranded, we have money to pay for our rooms, provided you take Federation currency." Though his voice is light with humor, his tone is professional, as it always is during such times. But, now this hotel proprietor has the same grin as the girl, even as she hands Kirk a key.  
**_A_**_ key?_  
Kirk is quick to notice this. "Excuse me, you only have one room available?" He inquires politely, and again, the man grins.  
"I'm afraid so. I do hope you don't mind, people have been....filling these rooms up quite quickly..." His eyes are glittering with a secret he doesn't seem to want to part with. And those eyes are now focussed quite closely on Spock.  
"I take it you both saw the dancers. Tell me, what was the experience like, for...you both?"  
_He's hinting at something..._ The Vulcan scowls infinitesimally. _But what?_  
"They were....aesthetically pleasing."

-

A soft sigh sounds from his Captain as they walk down the hall and to their room.  
_Our room._ He recalls....and suddenly, the hall seems smaller.  
The few paintings on the wall seem to be on loop, almost as if their walk won't end at all.  
_Seascape, woodlands, Violaceae, avian._ He calls out in his head._ Seascape, woodlands, Violaceae, avian--Ah, they _are_ on loop_.  
"So, I was thinking. We passed what looked like a tech-shop, so if you can figure out what the problem with my communicator is, we can probably get the parts to fix it." The statement cuts the silence in half, and Spock snaps back to reality.  
"A most reasonable plan, Captain."  
His CO soon (but not soon enough, in Spock's opinion) stops at a door at the very end.  
"It seems almost....." The Captain struggles for an appropriate term, so of course Spock would assist, answering the silent question with "Out of place, I agree."  
A classic-styled door, as opposed to the electronic ones which are on every other wall, is what stands between them and sleep, with a shiny gold knob and worn carvings.  
_It would figure_. Spock muses. _That _**_our_**_ room would have the odd door_.  
"Well," Kirk starts as he places the key into the lock, turning it and the knob. "It will be a history lesson, I suppose" There was going to be a laugh there, Spock knew, but it was silenced the minute the door was opened.  
_One...bed... _He feels a small movement in his lower abdomen, but discards it.  
_This will prove to be...most disconcerting_.

-

"Jim..." Spock says quietly, his tone betraying his anxiety.  
Kirk's response is quick, almost as if he'd been coming up with a statement already. "Don't worry, Mr. Spock," the formalities help, it will cut the tension, Kirk knows. "I'll take the floor tonight, the other night's we'll simply trade-off."  
Spock frowns, in his own non-existant way, he didn't _want_ to admit it...but he had (for a _moment_) thought that he might be sharing a bed with his commanding officer. He shakes the thought from his mind almost completely. It was illogical to think that he would want to be in such close proximity.  
_But...._  
"Captain." His tone is no longer nervous, it's sharp and smooth, his next words might have been about the weather, or the chemical properties of tofu. "I see no reason why one of us should sleep on the floor. Only one of us would be at our top physical condition, and that is highly inefficient." He surprises even himself with how level it came out, he folds his hands behind his back, eyes reflective.  
_But of course I should be calm_, He reasons._ I am only trying to get us back aboard the Enterprise quickly_. It's a lie...he knows...but he pretends he doesn't.  
Kirk smiles...and oh that smile, that beautiful, sparkling smile that reaches his deep brown eyes. And Spock pretends his stomach doesn't flutter, but it does.  
It does because he knows, oh God does he know, that that smile is only for him.  
"I agree, Mr. Spock...it would be very inefficient." His brow raises slightly as the word glides off his tongue, five delicious syllables filled with silent promises--  
_No_. He mentally scolds himself. _He is your Captain, your friend. You...are simply imagining things._

-

"Well?".....Kirk asks, for what his tone tells to be more than the first time.  
"I am sorry, Captain." Spock begins, not looking up from the dismantled piece of equipment in front of him. "I do believe I missed your query." His eyes are on the task at hand, but he knows that Kirk is staring. "Spock, are you alright? You've been acting...off." Had Spock been anything but half-Vulcan, he would have dropped the fuse in his hand.  
He noticed before, during the parade... The poor man realizes. And simply chose not to bring it up.... The corner of his mouth begs to tug into a frown, but he won't let it. "My apologies, I do believe something I ate has been mildly affecting my health." _A lie_.  
He knows his eyes are revealing it, and doesn't need to look to know that Kirk is frowning. "If you say so." His words are spoken softly, but with an underlying tone of 'But you're not getting away with that lie for long'.

**_-To Be Continued-_**

* * *

A/N: Alrighty, poppets, we're nearing the proverbial fork-in-the-road, here.

What to do...what to do...?

Do I go for smut? (I'd, of course, bump up the rating)

Do I release all my powers of innuendo and double-meanings for the greatest word-sex _ever_?

Or option C. which is totally a secret, and totally unpredictable.


	3. Dare Me

_**"Under the Cover of Night"**_

**Rating: **T (M, possibly, but _much _later on.)

**Couple(s):** Pre-slash Kirk/Spock

**Disclaimer: **

I owneth not _Star Trek_. There, happy?

Language and slash. ftw.

**Before Story Notes:**

Cookies to the following for their comments:

**Umbrella-ella**

**Flying on a Broken Wing**

**kingdomhearts222**

**celestia101**

**karmapolice28**

**ILuvSeverusSnape**

**SilverCat63**

**Emmmaaarr**

And to the lovely **maiky1992** (on ), I took your advice~

__

_Make your request, my love. _

_But guise it as we do our words._

_Ask for what we dream, darling. _

_**Dare me.**_

____

_**Chapter 3: 'Dare Me'**_

A yawn. Spock's.

Kirk smiles, his feet propped up on the footboard of the bed.

_It's probably one in the morning...by now._

"Tired? Not that I blame you, of course." No response. "Here, you get to bed now, and I'll tinker with that sucker for a few more minutes...alright?" Spock, finally, looks up from his task for the first time in over four hours. "Jim, that hardly seems fair, Vulcans require less sleep than humans, and I am not tire--" Suddenly, Spock holds his hand in front of his mouth.

_Trying to hide another yawn?_ The Captain's smile just gets wider, because for the _second_ time that day Spock called him 'Jim'. And both times were in relation to their sleeping arrangements.

_Logically,_ the blonde ponders in his best Spock impression. _I cannot ignore the coincidence...._

And with more remorse than he'd thought, he gets off of the bed to allow Spock room to lie down, his arms folded in a 'no-nonsense, you're tired'-fashion, as considers stating how "impractical" it is to wear so many clothes to bed, before realizing that he probably shouldn't push it.

Lest he be reminded of how _stupid_ he looked when he tried to trick Spock into massaging him.

"No use trying to negotiate, now get to bed, Mr. Spock." He says as professionally as possible, given the sentence itself, while taking a seat across from Spock at the old table. Yet the, obviously drowsy, man makes no move to lie down. His eyes are cast downward, words chosen carefully. "You seem...quite tired yourself." He raises his head to look the other man straight in the eyes, and their gazes lock together. His voice steadies itself, tone reverting to the one he uses during _most_ of their little chats. "I believe..that perhaps you should rest as well, Captain." His brow quirks as he says the title, and the blonde realizes that they're playing their game of words.

_He's inviting me to bed..._ Kirks, well trained, self-restraint keeps him from grinning at this. "Well, now that you mention it, I _could_ use a...nap, Mr. Spock...if you don't mind sharing a quilt." He's playing very carefully, they've flirted before, sure (countless time, in fact), but never when the inevitable outcome was sleeping side-by-side.

"Not at all, Jim." The Vulcans impenetrable gaze looks him over... "A _Vulcans_ body temperature is naturally higher than a humans, though, so I do doubt that you will be needing one."

Egged on by the _blatant_ innuendo, he grows bold. His tone is playful, even as his heart is pounding "Do you plan on wearing your full uniform, _Spock?_" His voice shakes slightly, but he'd made it seem like a totally innocent question, if not for the look he gave the other man as he said his name.

And if he hadn't known better, he would have said that his First Officer just smirked.

"I do not see the reason to, no." And in that moment, all of the precious blood that was powering Kirks mind, suddenly fled south.

"I'm gonna go take a quick shower....I'll be right back." Spock simply offers a small nod in response.

* * *

He turns to the water to lukewarm before getting in....letting the water flow over him as he ponders the events of the day.

This means something. He knows it does.... Vulcans don't offer to sleep beside just anyone... The thought makes him smile to himself.

He's not just anyone in Spock's eyes...he's special to him...

_Spock....._ he gulps...he'll be _right beside him_...a shudder escapes him...

That, _wonderfully_ _hot_, Vulcan, body pressed next to his in the tight space....

Sliding his hand down his abdomen, fingertips dancing, as he imagines _his_ Vulcan doing it...._"Your heart-rate is increasing quite rapidly, Jim....yet I have barely touched you....__**fascinating**_...._'__'_

"....ohh...."

* * *

Mussing his hair a bit, to distract himself from how annoyed he is that he didn't bring a day-bag, he checks his reflection for a _third_ time to make sure he's presentable.

_Pretty damn handsome, if I do say so myself._ The Captain muses. _Even if putting the same clothes on totally defeats the purpose of showering..._.

At least he could create the illusion he changed by taking off his yellow over-shirt.

Grinning, as he once again mows over the fact that _not only_ will he be laying beside _Spock_, but that the Vulcan actually agreed to remove some clothing...

Finally conceding that he was bordering 'dolling-up', he walks out, only to see a rather cogitative Vulcan, sitting at he table again.

"Now, Spock, I thought we agreed it was time for bed." He calls, and Spock's eyes drift up into his. "My apologies, Jim."

A moment of unsure silence passes through them before Spock stands up.

"Well, going to get ready?"

_That came out...__**way**__ more eager than I intended._ He smiles awkwardly. _Not a great start._

The, ever stoic, Spock actually half-smiles...his tone a bit deeper as he says "Of course."

He turns to face away from Kirk as his hands go the the hem of his blue, science officers, top...Kirk notes the deep breath that his friend takes in as he does so.

_Calm down_ he wants to say out loud... _I won't rush you..._

Soon enough, he begins lifting the shirt, slowly......

He turns to his Captain, and the blond lets his eyes wander slightly...

"Shall we?" the tone is professional, the situation is anything but.

* * *

_Now what?_

They'd been standing by the bed, on opposite sides for a good while....

"I'll take this side~" He finally says, pulling back the covers and sitting on the bed to start....

"Very well," The tone is neutral, and the Vulcan seems quite calm as he sits beneath the blanket and shuts the light. "goodnight, Jim."

Kirk's eyes haven't yet adjusted...but he can hear as he settles, on the edge of the bed, turning onto his side, with his back facing Jim. And soon enough, he grows quiet, even his breathing soft.

_Wait....what?  
_

_-To Be Continued-_

_

* * *

_

A/N:

hehehe, we're not done yet, kiddies~!

Oh, what are your fave scenes so far??


	4. No Rest for the Wicked

_**"Under the Cover of Night"**_

**Rating: **T (M, possibly, but _much _later on.)

**Couple(s):** Pre-slash Kirk/Spock

**Disclaimer: **

I owneth not _Star Trek_. There, happy?

Language and slash. ftw.

**Before Story Notes:**

Cookies to the following for their comments:  
karmapolice28  
mildetryth  
maiky1992  
emmmaaarr

The following is told from Jim Kirk's 1st-person POV^^  
Oh, and get ready, 'cause this slash's about to get heavy.  
(full A/N at the bottom)

* * *

_The dark can provide solace._

_It can provide peace of mind, and precious slumber, accompanied by dreams of clouds and sunlight._

_Yet here, in this dark...I find neither._

_My soul shakes like a leaf in the breeze of your presence,_

_And there is, as the old quote goes: __**no Rest for the wicked.**_

* * *

_**Chapter 4: 'No Rest for the Wicked'**_

He's quiet....lying beside me, perfectly still.

If not for the sound of his breath I might have had to look over and make sure he was there.

Minutes pass, probably ten, and I can't help but smile at the thought that Spock would know the precise time.

But this isn't the way it's supposed to go.

We're _supposed_ to be closer than this, touching even, if only slightly...a sigh escapes my throat as I shut my eyes, and I realize too late that it sounds annoyed....

More time, an....hour, I think.

But his breathing is different, it's slightly faster, and now he's....

_He's holding it._ I try to keep my own breath steady. _He thinks you're asleep, don't startle him_.

I swear I hear him make a sound, the beginnings of speech, and---

A rustle, soft and fleeting, is my inadequate notice.

And, suddenly, his _long-fingered_ hand is wrapped around my own in that _wonderful_ grip of his....small, shudder inducing sparks sent through my veins.

And, God help me, I gasp.

I thought he'd let go, that he'd pull away in a panic, but he does neither...

In fact, he's _rubbing_ my palm with his thumb.

I dare not speak, the moment too heavy for words...

But I groan, loudly, and he slows.

I squeeze his hand in reassurance, unable to speak a single word, but he understands, responding to, what must have been, an obscene movement on my part, by rubbing his palm, flat, against my own....the shocks more intense, his flesh hot on my own...sweet friction that teases....

Grinding my hand, in what I imagine to be quite dirty a fashion, I feel his pulse quicken

"Jim" The first word spoken in _God knows_ how long, his voice is thick, like warm honey flowing through my soul....it's my undoing.

My head, which I hadn't realized had raised, crashes back against the pillow.

I manage look at him for the first time since we laid down, he's panting, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood......it's beautiful.

"S-Spock," My voice barely comes out more than a groan, and suddenly he's staring at me, eyes liquid fire...and in no more than a moment, he's mounted me, grinding our groins together in time with our hands.

I shout his name.....

or maybe, he shouted mine....

His hands are braced on either side of my torso...his head bent into the crook of my neck, his ragged breath heating the exposed flesh too quickly to be anything but wondrous, and...his ear...

That _gorgeous_, flushed, Vulcan ear.

_too close...._ I'm unable to help myself.

I bite it.

He groans, "Jim....!" and now he's looking at me again, chest rising and falling quickly as his free hand grips my face....

He...tastes like mint.

When we started kissing, I don't know, nor do I care.

His tongue tangles with mine for the umpteenth time as he moves the hand from my cheek and to my hair, yanking it softly before sliding his fingertips to my meld-points....but he goes no further...

"Yes, Spock.....yes...._please_"

And my mind is his.

_and _**_he_**_ is mine_

"Yes, Jim, I am yours." He almost chuckles. I feel my face redden, though I'm sure I was already flushed.

"I...had meant your min--" he claims my mouth again, and I buck my hips against him, my mind sending an image I would rather have kept to myself...

I feel his lips tip up.

**_Here,_** I hear his voice echo through my brain, as his hand slides down to my waistband, moving his mouth to breath hot puffs of air into my ear as he speaks. _"Let me help...."_

............

I don't know why it happened _now_, when the memories haven't crossed my mind in so long, when I have long since realized who my heart has, and always will, belong to.

But it did happen.

The human brain, unchangeable in all it's unfortunate associative patterns, conjured _her_ face to those words.

His mind reacts before his body, but he moves quick enough...standing abruptly as if I scald him with my very presence...

I expect pain and betrayal, but, when I looked into his face, into those eyes that usually swim with his withheld emotions....I see nothing.

"Spock, I--" To speak was a mistake.

His face draws tight, the dim lighting from a flickering candle making his face seem too smooth. "You need not explain, Captain." He is not curt, his voice holding no malice, but he won't keep that up.

"Let me-"

"You need not explain!" His eyes are glistening, but not with the joy I am so used to seeing in them, his iris' are dancing with controlled fury.

"Spock!" My tone gets through to him, he calms, his shaking fists stilling.

But it's not to be.

There's a knock at the door, he replaces his overshirt and goes to get it. "Spock, they-whoever they are-can wait.." I try, my voice soft, the pleading unhidden.

But, still, he opens it, with his stance set to 'First Officer' as he turns back to me. "Captain, it seems that the landing party has found us, after all."

Sulu is standing there, beside Chekov, neither of them looking directly at me or Spock.

"We'll wait in the lobby, you guys can come out to hear our report...when you're ready." I don't know who says it, but once they've finished, my beautiful Vulcan has shut the door...casting us, once again, into misleading shadows.

He doesn't speak as he gathers his tricorder and phaser from the nightstand.

I try to speak, but as he moves to leave his hand stops on the knob with his head raised, though I know his eyes are lowered, the familiarity of the position making my speech falter.

"I....am sorry, I could not take her place."

A sob chokes the last syllable, and my eyes go wide in shock, my mouth opens to protest but he's already left...slammed the door behind him in a most uncharacteristic fashion.

I try to mask my emotions, but but my heart is sinking, and I doubt I look too authoritative even as I walk out.

My eyes instinctively locate him, but he looks passed me when he speaks.

"Captain," His voice sounds near robotic as he relays his newfound information to me. "It would seem that the rest of the landing party is in a similar situation. The difference being their numbers."

**_-To Be Continued-_**

_**

* * *

**_

Now, I've uploaded this so early as a sort of New Year's present...and I'll be gone for at least a week, so, I figured I'd upload it while I could.

Hope you all enjoyed~

Oh, and for those who didn't get the reference, the woman was Edith.

She actually says that _precise_ line, which was the only reason Kirk thought of her.

-

Love,  
Kit-chan


	5. Do Not Speak

**"Under the Cover of Night"**

**Rating:** T (M, possibly, but much later on.)

**Couple(s):** Pre-slash Kirk/Spock

**Disclaimer: **

• I owneth not Star Trek. There, happy?

• Language and slash. ftw.

**Before Story Notes:**

The POV changes quite a bit in this one, but I think I've made it pretty easy to tell who's talking..

Also, a good amount of Spock-centric angst, but I believe it's understandable.

* * *

_I dreamt of the time when I could hold your hand in mine,_

_Our minds touching and caressing._

_But there can be no warmth to a touch that is not for me._

_I see you, trying to deny, but if you have ever cared for me at all..._

_**Do not speak.  
**_

_**

* * *

**_

_**Chapter 5: 'Don't Speak'**_

My chest feels uncommonly tight when I see him, stepping out of our-_the_ room as if nothing happened. Though I am sure, to him, it truly did mean nothing…

The touches, the kisses, the words-

I cease my thoughts on the matter as I begin to feel my hands, now behind my back, gripping infinitesimally tighter.

"Thoughts, Mr. Spock?" His voice is like chilled steel, slicing through me with every syllable.

"We should gather our thoughts and begin a formal assessment tomorrow, when we are fully awake, Captain."

….Captain…

"I agree." He does not look at me when he speaks, as if my appearance is something offensive.

And it…hurts to breathe.

* * *

"Ve should let deem be."

No matter how you slice it, Chekov was right.

I mean, sure, our being outside the door wasn't what caused whatever had happened, but _damn_ if it wasn't awkward being around them now.

Even still in this room, just Chekov and I…I can't shake the feeling of, just, wrongness.

"I vunder vhat happend…"

_"Yes, Spock…..yes…._**please.**_"_

That was the last thing we heard, clearly anyway, before they'd—Well, _Spock_—started shouting.

It doesn't make any sense.

"Go to bed, it's none of our business." I berate him.

But we both know I'm thinking the same thing.

* * *

I awake with a yawn, stretching out my surprisingly sore muscles, trying to remember the previous night's events over a pounding migraine.

_'Spock…'_

The moment of remembrance feels like a blow to the stomach, and I know that I have to go talk to him..

Before Sulu and Chekov get up to give a formal report, and before we leave this building, I need to speak with him.

He must have had a similar thought because, when I open the door, he's standing there. His hand raised in mid-knock. "Mr. Spock," For some reason, he flinches when I address him. "good, I wanted to speak with you."

He's so calm, so focused, when he talks. It's almost easy to believe that nothing happened. "I believe you should wait until we regroup, in the event that-"

"Not about that, Mr. Spock." His eyes widen, more than he'd usually allow. "I want to talk about…last night."

"No." His response is quick, final, but there's a lingering unease to his voice..something I must have missed in his eyes.

I never misread him…not in _years_. "Spock, please, we need to discuss this." His eyes latch to a spot on the ground. "Spock, I… It was a mis-"

A pained look spreads over his face for a moment, just a moment, and my heart snaps in half. "Please, Captain, do not say it."

I can't fathom _what_, but as Mr. Sulu appears down the hall I know I've missed my chance to ask.

* * *

"When we realized that we'd lost you guys, we pulled out our communicators to contact you… But _as soon_ as we did so, they both fried!"

_'Just as the Captain's had…'_

"It would appear as if there is some outside source disrupting our communication devices. Perhaps the planet's natural wavelengths?" I turn to.. To Captain Kirk, waiting for some words of agreement or otherwise.

But he is no longer paying attention.

"Captain." His eyes snap to me at once. A 'sorry, could you repeat that?' escaping his throat.

I feel my jaw clench, but school my tone to it's usual monotone level as I repeat what I had said previously.

"Yes, that.. That sounds logical." He offers with a nod.

I see Lieutenant Sulu's eyes dart between us, somewhat nervously, before he speaks. "Hey, uh, why don't Pav-" He must have caught my quirked brow, as he quickly amends his words. "_Mr._ Chekov and I go to that shop you were talking about, get some more repair equiptment?"

The Captain agrees quickly, and I know that I will have to be alone with him yet again.

"Is that..alright with you, Mr. Spock?" 'A way out', I believe that is called, and I take it.

"Actually, Captain, I would prefer getting the items with Mr. Chekov. As I will be the one to work on the communicator."

He frowns a bit but doesn't push. Simply nodding as his eyes flash a look as if it were _he_ who were struggling to maintain control.

As if he was fighting the urge to vomit at the thought of that…event having progressed any further before the truth was known and..

And having to wonder, from last night and until I pass on, if I would have turned down his advances had I known.

"Okay, Mr. Spock."

* * *

Hikaru and I share a glance.. One of our usual 'Help me' and 'Sorry, you're on your own' exchanges that we have whenever it's obvious that Mr. Spock and the Captain are on the outs and one of us has to go off with the one who's in the worse mood. "Ay em ready ven yoo err, Mistor Spowk."

I expect his usual nod and "Very well, Ensign", but I only get the former before he starts out the door, a certain droopiness to him.

As we walk the streets of the city, for some mind-boggling reason, I try to reach out to him. "Meestor Spowk, err yoo alright?"

In response I get a muttered "Yes, Mr. Chekov." and my heart goes out to the man.

It's no secret on the ship, unless you're a certain blonde yeoman or Nurse, that the Vulcan feels something more than 'friendship' for his Captain.

But it's also no secret that the feelings are returned one-hundred percent.

_'So what could have happened?'_

I can't help but notice a certain vacancy in his eyes, and I know that he's not thinking about the problem at hand.

But, that's okay, he's more than earned a day of absent-mindedness in my opinion.

_'If anyone has, it's Mr. Spock.'  


* * *

_

"Captain," I try for the seventh time, and _finally_ he responds.

_'This is going to be a long ass day.'_

"Yes, Mr. Sulu?" His words come out as just one long sigh, and I know I just have to say _something_.

"Sir, I know it's none of my business-"

"Then _don't ask_."

I must have done a double-take.

You can count on _one hand_ the amount of times Captain Kirk has snapped at a member of his crew.

Diplomats? Sure.

Klingons? Definitely.

But one of his own?

Pavel and Mr. Spock walk through the door to my hotel room and I can see it on Pav's face that things are just as bad as we thought.

"Meeshon ekompleeshed, sir." He says with a strained grin, and I get it.. That must have been the worst shopping trip ever.

I turn to the Captain, and I note that he's looking anywhere _but_ the Vulcan's direction. Spock catches it too and, if I didn't know any better, I'd swear I heard him sigh.

"Did you find everything you needed, Mr. Chekov?"

* * *

He has shouted, struck, and even insulted me. All for good reason, yes, but still painful..

Nothing, however, hurts quite as much as being ignored.

I note, with some small satisfaction, how simple it is for me to keep an even tone. "We have what is required to fix the communicators, Captain."

He nods, looking at me for the first time in who knows how long.

I can't help but look into his eyes, only to find no affection in them. Some guilt perhaps, as he is a truly good person, but no brimming love as I remembered.

_'Though, was there ever love?'_

Somewhere in the back of my mind I question wether or not there had ever been anything special between us…

It makes sense, I suppose, that in my attraction toward the exuberant man I imagined him as having some special favor toward me, and now that I know his need for me was physical at best.. I can see our interactions for what they really are.

Companionable silence, I recognize, could simply have been his boredom of my company.

His fleeting touches, despite my culture's reservations, could simply have been a habit.

It is fitting, I suppose, that a Vulcan who recognizes his love, despite the illogic of such a sentiment, would do so for a man who would never return the emotion.

When he disrupts my thoughts, it is only to further discuss the task that I will be working on.

"And you've figured out how to get past the disruptors?"

"Mr. Chekov did, sir. The repairs should not take more than two hours.."

Two hours and we will be back on the Enterprise, surrounded by a crew of people who cannot detect a single moment of awkwardness between myself and the Captain.

Two hours until I am standing at my station, listening as the wandering Yeoman unabashedly flirt with my Captain..

And, of course, two hours until I must continue enduring the constant berating of Dr. McCoy for my 'lack of emotion'.

He does not know, no one knows, what I would trade to be the man they think I am. A purely cold and mechanical being who cannot love and who could never know what love is.

_The ecstasy, and the misery,_ he had once said.

And last night, I knew them both.

_**-To Be Continued-**_


	6. In the End

**"Under the Cover of Night"**

**Rating:** T  
**Couple(s):** Pre-slash Kirk/Spock  
**Disclaimer: **  
• I owneth not Star Trek. There, happy?  
• Language and slash. ftw.

**Before Story Notes:**  
The last chappie, omg..  
Thank you guys for sticking with me through this rather bumpy ride, but I hope you all enjoy the way it wraps up.

* * *

_If I tell him, I could lose him.  
If I say nothing I know I will.  
A perilous dilemma that needed to be decided too long ago,  
But at least I'll know I did what I could, **in the end.  


* * *

**_

**_Chapter 5: 'In the End'_**

The next two weeks passed with a certain crawling slowness, tense shifts on the bridge, silent dinners alone for the first time in years, and I realize I must have forgotten how thoroughly apart of each other's live we are…were.

I look at him, standing beside me in the turbolift we have to take together, as if our lives are some cosmic joke.  
Worse yet, our chances to take this lift are hurriedly declining.  
Another month and our mission is over.

The thought gives me some courage but he beats me to the words, stopping the lift as he looks over to speak to me. "Captain, a word if I may?"  
I can't remember the last time he'd spoken so softly. "Of course, Mr. Spock."

He restarts the lift, and I have to assume it's so that we can get to one of our quarters first.

"My quarters?" I offer, and he nods.

He says nothing during the walk, but it's hardly a friendly silence, and I'm more than happy when we're finally behind the closed door.

Spock then does something I can't quite figure out…  
He looks over my room as if he's putting each and every object to memory. As if he doesn't think he'll see any of them again.

"We cannot let last night's happenings affect us, especially now that we are on the Enterprise."  
"Spock, last night-"  
"Jim," He tries to cut me off, but I hold up my hand to silence him. "Spock, please, let me finish."  
"What happened last night," I see him steel himself where he stands, as if preparing for a blow. "I shouldn't have thought of her. I don't know why I did-no, I do. She'd said that to me, Spock..and…I don't know, the way she said it just..stuck with me."

He looks surprised for a moment, and in his eyes I see more pain than I should ever have caused him. "I have also said that to you, Ji-_Captain_. Did that…simply mean nothing to you?" His tone is helpless, beseeching, and I'm over to him in an instant.

* * *

After the words leave my mouth, his arms are around me.  
I feel my mental barriers begin to break, one by one, and my resolve with them.

"I'm sorry, Spock. So, _so_ sorry."

I should dislodge him from my person, I should tell him that his words mean nothing..  
That I no longer wish for him to touch me.

I do neither.

"Do not apologize. It is understandable that you would think of someone you care for while" I pause, feeling the words get caught in my throat, though that should not be possible. "seeking physical comfort from someone you do not."  
I feel him stiffen around me, before pulling back to look at me.

And those eyes, like the richest of chocolates, seem to glitter as he speaks to me, each word being spoken with such care, as if they are the only truth in the Universe.  
"Spock..I love you."

It is now, of all times, that my arms find the strength to push him away. My voice sounding more hurt than it ever has, and I find myself unable to find a thread of logic to berate myself with. "Do _not_ patronize me."  
He shakes his head, though wether it was out of exasperation or to deny my request I am unsure. "I'm not, Spock." His hand moves up, cradling my face, as those big beautiful eyes bore into mine with a silent passion. I believe him.

Decades of schooled emotions, years of withheld actions, all forgotten in a single moment.

And his lips are mine.

* * *

Mewling softly at the contact, I bring my other hand to hold his face…

_'Tomorrow won't go well.'_ I think to myself. _'Tomorrow he'll panic, and he'll shut me out completely.'_

But tomorrow hadn't yet come, and it wouldn't for hours..  
So I kiss him harder, selfishly, like the world is ending…and maybe ours is.

He presses me up against the wall, pinning me with his lean frame and I fool myself into believing that this won't be the last time. That, maybe, there could be a renascence.  
"Spock…." He takes my mouth again, kissing with the same ferocity as he had on that planet, that great flurry of red and gold that I despise as much as I love it.

Hands sliding everywhere, tongues dancing, tangled fingers..  
Why had we waited so long?

Cohesive thoughts aren't good right now, and I push them away. There will be time for that later..now is just this.

I grind my palm against his and he gasps, whimpering my name in a way that no one has before.  
All at once his free hand flies to the hem of my shirt, the fastenings of my pants, undressing me as if he had a million times before.

My movements are slower, savoring every moment with each layer of his clothing that I remove..my hands trembling just slightly as he kisses along the column of my throat.  
I lean into the caress of his lips as my hands slide his pants and briefs off of his thin waist, my hands grasping his hips to pull him closer..against me. His flushed green body to my own tan one, cocks pressed together between our bodies, and I groan.

We begin to grind together perfectly, my body trapped between the cold wall behind me and his exquisite heat. "a-aah.."

He takes my hands within his own, holding them above our bodies to twine and untwine in their own dance as he looks at me again, asking for an intimacy that I'm not sure I deserve anymore..but can't possibly deny. "Yes, Spock…_yes_."

His fingers slide to my meld points apprehensively, but when he melds us..there's no uncertainty in his mind.  
Just love.  
Pure, unyielding, and totally blinding.

I hear myself gasp and claim his lips, showing him through our link just how much I care for him. And how much he means to me..

Visions of stars, endless space, of great and magnificent things that can't even come _close_ to expressing how I feel, flood between us.  
But he understands…  
He always does.

Our end comes perfectly. All encompassing light enveloping our minds as we ride through it…together..  
So much, and so quickly.

But all too soon, the waves of ecstasy begin ebb, my mind clearing as he withdraws, and yet doesn't physically pull himself away.

His lips slowly, gently, touch a kiss to my throat, just above my pulse. I can't hold back the languid smile that passes over my face.

A long moment passes between us…But he's the first to speak. Using that familiar low timbre that could only ever be his…mumbling softly against my skin.  
"T'hy'la…"

**_-Fin-_**


End file.
